


Bonds and the Blood

by fannishliss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is possessed by an Angel. Team Free Will take on Gadreel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonds and the Blood

**title: Bonds and the Blood**  
author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)**fannishliss**  
Rating: R  
Genre: Gen  
4200 words  
Spoilers: This story refers to a spoiler from the aired teaser for the 1-14-14 unaired episode of Supernatural.  This story is almost certainly not the way it will go -- but it's one way I'd LIKE for it to go.  :)

Summary: Sam is possessed by an Angel. Team Free Will take on Gadreel.

For Jensenrick: this story has Sam, Crowley, and Garth -- though Garth really takes center stage here.  Hope you will enjoy!  
  
~*O*~

Sam is tied to a chair, mighty arms straining against the bonds, but it's Ezekiel -- no, Gadreel's -- too-bright eyes staring out of him.

Crowley has a power drill and a grin of unholy glee.

Dean is biting through his lip, caught between the angelic threat to his brother's continued existence and the demonic threat of a few more holes in his gigantor skull.

Then Garth skids in at top speeds, yelling "Whoa, whoa, whoa, drop the power drill, ex-King of Hell!"

Crowley impulsively lunges forward and Dean grabs him tight, both arms around his middle, and Dean is so glad Crowley's been at least partially declawed and is really much littler than Dean in a physical human sense.

Zeke, no, Gadreel! sits back, calm once more to appraise the situation.

Garth is scowling at Dean and Crowley like he'd just stumbled into some kind of cannibalistic love feast.  Which, kind of, is not far from the truth.  Crowley is practically drooling to get his drill into Sammy's noggin, and it horrifies Dean, of course it does, but the Angel is in, and he's not getting out on Sammy's say so, but he has to come out, and Cas had said it might work...

"Hold your horses, this instant!" Garth snaps.

Dean, his arms still tight around Crowley, is holding, and Crowley is growling, low in his throat, like some kind of attack dog kept back from his bone.

Garth extracts the drill from Crowley's death grip.  He whips off the battery pack and pockets it, tossing the drill on a table.

"Explain," Garth demands.

"Moose has an Angel in him, and I was just helping it out!" Crowley growls.

"Where's Kevin?" Garth asks, looking around.

Dean knows his face tells Garth everything he needs to know. Garth turns to stone.

"Is the Angel secure?" Garth asks Dean.

Dean nods.  "Cas says yes."

"Where's Cas?" Garth asks.

"On his way."

"Put this demon back wherever you had him, and let's regroup," Garth says, and Dean obeys.

Garth doesn't drink on the job, and he's glaring at Dean as he downs a shot of his own cheap whiskey (no sense wasting the good stuff at a time like this).

"What the hell are you thinking, letting Crowley onto Sam with a power drill?"

Dean raises his eyes, and Garth has never seen such guilt and hopelessness looking out of someone still alive.

"Crowley said he'd rewire the Angel," Dean falters.

"Lobotomizing Sam in the process!  Good Lord, Dean! You need to tell me everything, right from the beginning."

Dean whimpers his way through the story.  He's worse than Garth has ever seen him, torn up - rightfully so -- over Kevin's senseless death -- but Garth can't really hold it against him about the Angel deal.  Garth still can't convince himself they're all dicks.  There have to be some, somewhere, others like Cas, with a will to try and do good.

"Has anyone spoken to this Gadreel? or did you just chuck him into the holy fire and start trying to exorcise him and threaten him with power drills?"

Dean just stares at Garth.  "Sure, I've spoken with him.  He lies."

"Can I try?" Garth says.

Dean rolls his eyes.  "Knock yourself out.  Sam's not getting any more fucked up than he already is, I guess."

"Thank you," Garth says. Dean downs his second shot and trails Garth back to the interrogation room, carrying the bottle.

Garth sits down in a chair opposite Sam and studies the Angel.

He's trapped in a ring of holy fire, but also bound to the chair by manacles inscribed with Enochian. It makes Garth kind of sick, to see Sam chained up like this, and to tell the truth, it disturbs him to see with his own eyes how little the Angels could be trusted.

"Let Sam go," Garth orders loudly.

"Why would I do that?" the Angel answers.  "This vessel suits me.  I have a mission.  I have need of it."

"Why do you need it?"

The Angel clams up.

"Why did you lie to Dean?"

The Angel hangs Sam's head, frowning.  "I lied about my name because I am ... not esteemed among my kind."

"Why?" Garth asks, gently.

"I will not answer," Gadreel says angrily.

"Because you abandoned your post at the gates of Eden, let Lucifer in, and fucked Eve while you were at it!" Garth shouts, shocking Dean out of his stupor.

"No!" Gadreel roars.

"No? which part, no?  the part where you betrayed God? the part where you betrayed all your Angelic brethren? or the part where you set up all of humanity for the Fall?"

"I did none of those things!" Gadreel shouts.  A fearsome blue light shines out around Sam's head.

"Garth..." Dean warns.

"Shut up, Dean," Garth responds, not even looking at him. "I know why you didn't let on who you really were.  If your real name were let out, every Angel would drop looking for Castiel and turn on you!"

"Yes! They would!  And then where would your precious Sam Winchester be, hmmm?"

"You tell me," Garth says.  "How many of us are you willing to destroy along with you, Gadreel?  How many of God's prophets, how many of his righteous men are you willing to drag down?"

"I ... I had no choice," Gadreel says.  "I have a mission."

"There's always a choice, Gadreel," Garth says.  "There's always a choice."

A brief silence falls.  Dean watches, stupefied by grief and terror, as Garth just sits there, gazing at Gadreel sadly, compassionately.

"How do you know my name?" Gadreel asks.

"Crowley has Sam's righteous blood in his veins," Garth says.  "And, besides being King of Hell, he's a very powerful witch.  He dowsed your name out of a book."

"Huh," Gadreel laughs, mirthless.

"What?"  Garth probes with a little smile.

"They said my name had been stricken from every list of the host," Gadreel whispers.

"It's in the book of Enoch, amongst the Fallen," Garth says, softly.

Tears well up in Gadreel's eyes.  "I never fell, I swear it."

"Lucifer lied?" Garth says.

"It was Azazel," Gadreel whispers.  "He told me there was a disturbance at the Western Wall.  He said he would watch my post while I investigated.  I flew there at once, and found evidence that something had tried to get in.  It only took a moment for me to report to my superior and return to my post."

"Your superior?"  Garth asks.

"Samael," Gadreel responds.

Garth raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"What?" Gadreel says.

"Samael was one of Lucifer's chief lieutenants, killed in the war. They never told you?"

Gadreel weakly shakes his head.

"They just threw you in prison, struck your name, and left you to rot?"

Gadreel nods.

"I guess it was Lucifer all along who got to Eve."

"I was meant to guard them," the Angel says.  "They were perfect. So innocent and beautiful, the crowning glory of God's creation.  And because of me they fell and were cast out."

"Because of Lucifer," Garth reminds him.  "Don't you want to clear your name, Gadreel?"

"Yes! Yes, that's why I ..." Gadreel suddenly remembers he needs to keep quiet.

"Wouldn't you stand a better chance with us helping you?" Garth asks.

"Why would you help me? I killed your friend."

"Any prophet who stays dead for long isn't much of a prophet," Kevin says, wearily, striding into the room, Castiel behind him.

"Kevin!" Dean exclaims, sitting up straighter.  "Cas!"

"I'm powered up again, Dean," Cas says.  "Heaven is empty of Angels right now, so it was easier than usual to call Kevin's soul back from its reward."

"Is that ever a good thing to do to someone?" Kevin says.  "What if I was ready for my reward?"

"Were you?" Dean asks. It's not clear if Dean is hopeful one way or the other.

"No," Kevin snorts.  "I guess not.  There's too much going on down here, to settle for a Memorex geography bee up there."

"Dude, your Heaven is a geography bee?" Dean laughs.

"Shut the fuck up, Dean, you got me killed, and I'm not talking to you right now," Kevin says.

Dean slumps back, wounded, but Kevin is alive, and that's huge.

"Gadreel, why don't you let Sam go," Garth says.

"No!  I have a mission.  I have a mission," the Angel repeats.

"Tell us.  Maybe we can help," Garth suggests.

Gadreel shuts his mouth and refuses to speak any more, regardless of what Garth tries. The Angel just sits there, shaking Sam's head.

Midnight rolls around and no progress has been made.

Dean starts looking at the drill, his drink-dulled eyes drifting toward it.

"Dean, you cut that out," Garth says.

"He's my brother," Dean mumbles.

Garth shoots Cas a look, and Cas leans over, clears the alcohol out of Dean's system with a gentle, jarring touch to the forehead.

"Ow.  Ow!  God dammit, Cas, waste of bad whiskey!"  Dean curses, but he's awake anyway, and alert, and not so maudlin as he was a minute ago.

Kevin raps on the inside of the door frame.  "Guys, I have an idea."

Dean, Cas, and Garth repair to the library, leaving Gadreel in his ring of fire, mumbling his mantra about having a mission.

"I think Crowley might be the key," Kevin states, frowning.

"Not the drill," Garth states, crossing his arms.

Dean frowns and kicks at the floor.  "It's not like I wanted to let Crowley drill Sam," Dean says, "only Cas told me it was the last best chance."

"Last last," Cas edits.

"You say that now. I thought we were already at last last."

"Shut up, Dean," Kevin says harshly.  He clears his throat.  "I think we can use Crowley as a conduit, to get to Sam, to help him say no."

"How?" Garth says.

"Sam's blood-- it's in Crowley -- there's a link there," Kevin says.

"Yes," Castiel says, his eyes lighting up.  "Yes, it could work. But why would Crowley do it?"

"Favors," Dean says.  "He wants favors.  He's not as evil as he used to be before the trials.  The purification changed him.  He's practically not a demon any more."

"Looked pretty demonic from where I was standing," Garth says.

"You can never trust him.  Never," Castiel says.  "Unless you have something he needs."

"I don't know what he needs.  We keep him chained in the dark mostly.  Doesn't seem to matter."

"Let's go ask him," Garth says.

"Ask him?" Kevin says.

"Sure.  We don't lose anything by asking."

Kevin looks sour.

"I know you hate him," Garth says.  "That's cool.  We can use that."

Kevin bristles.  "I got a bad history with Hunters using me," he says, glaring at Dean, who looks away.

Castiel stands a little taller, like he always does when anything gets to Dean.  "Kevin Tran, you are a prophet of the Lord.  It was God who laid this calling on you, not Dean or any other Hunter.  The fight against evil is treacherous, and the way is never clear, since God no longer speaks to us.  We can only do our best."

"Your best gets me killed -- gets my mom killed -- my girlfriend -- I've given everything for you!" Kevin chokes.  "And you want to laugh at me because I had a good day at a geography bee."

"No one's laughing, Kevin," Garth says.

Dean coughs.

"Shut up, Dean," Garth and Kevin chorus.  Castiel twitches.

"I'm not laughing, Kevin," Dean says.  "I did what I thought was right.  Much good it did me.  I never wanted you to get hurt."

"Whatever," Kevin says.

"No," Dean insists.  "You're not collateral.  You... you matter.  You're  young. You still have a chance that maybe this will all be over and you can start over."

"No one starts over, Dean.  I know that."

"Well, maybe you will, all right? But this is war.  You never asked to be a part of it -- but you are."

"So do my job like a good soldier?" Kevin says bitterly.

Garth steps up to Kevin.  "No one here can make you do anything.  But I can tell you this, we're a hell of a lot stronger together than we are apart.  We got one thing going for us in this situation, and that's sticking together.  Look at this bunker."

He pauses for a moment.  The library gleams, marble and wood and leather and warm light.   Even at a moment like this, the bunker feels secure, strong;  more than that, it feels wholesome, even blessed. 

"Who do you think built this place?" Garth asks.

Dean frowns like a school kid. "Is that a trick question?"

"Yes, Dean, it's a trick question.  Ask yourself this--" Garth ticks off on his fingers-- "Why did the Men of Letters have access to so much Enochian spell work? Why were they called Legacies? Why did they fall just before Henry Winchester completed his initiation?"

Castiel's eyes widen as he takes it in, while Dean grits his teeth, eyes dark.  Kevin just looks tired.

"They were part of it -- the plan to bring about the Apocalypse.  Maybe they knew the whole plan, maybe they didn't.  We might never know now," Garth says.

"What's your point?" Castiel asks.

"My point is this," Garth says. "It doesn't matter where their allegiances really lay. What matters is that we have the chance now to rebuild everything from the ground up.   A whole new network of Hunters and researchers working together.  Maybe even Angels, when this all shakes down.  Maybe even," Garth says, hands spread wide, "demons -- healed ones I mean."

"Healing Crowley nearly killed Sam!" Dean says.  "If you think--"

"It wasn't healing Crowley that hurt Sam," Castiel says, "it was the whole Trials process, the attempt to close the gates of Hell.  You and Sam were wielding God-like powers, re-writing the rules of Creation -- as usual. No human being is meant to take that on."

"But you think we can just -- heal demons?"

"Yes," Garth says.  "I think so.  I think if we want Crowley to work with us, we just promise him what he really wants -- complete his transformation.  Save him from his own demonic nature, save him from Hell."

Kevin laughs, angrily.  "You want to save the King of Hell-- from Hell? If there was ever someone who should burn forever -- "

"No," Dean says, eyes flat.  "Don't go there, Kevin.  No one should burn forever.  No one."

Everything stops.  Castiel stands with his shoulder pressed against Dean's, as though, if he falters, Cas will prop him up.  Garth and Kevin didn't know Dean back when he was fresh out of Hell, but they know that part of him is still-- will always be -- a torturer.  And they've both seen Sam, out of his mind from just one century with Lucifer; maybe Sam will never fully recover from that either. 

"Right?" Garth says softly.  "We play our cards right, we can turn things around. We're at a juncture here.  We have an opportunity to make some really powerful allies, make a really big difference in the way things are."

"All I care about," Dean says stubbornly, "is saving Sam."

"No offense, Dean," Garth says, "but how's that working out for you?"

Dean's jaw sets a little more.

"Everyone here wants to save Sam," Garth says.  "I'm just saying, let's be smart about it."

There's a kind of group nod as everyone realizes Garth is right.

"Okay," Garth says.  "Everyone take a deep breath and let it all out.  Whoof.  That feels better, doesn't it?"

 Dean and Kevin roll their eyes, while Cas contemplates his answer.

"Let's all get a little snack and meet around the conference table in five," Garth says, clapping his hands.

"How'd he get to be the leader?" Dean asks Cas, as he digs around in the pickle jar to round out his salami and swiss.

"He's doing very well," Castiel says.  "It's not as easy as it looks."

"No kidding," Dean agrees.

Everyone is seated in the comfy library chairs in five minutes.  Garth is sucking down a tall glass of  lemonade through a straw.

"Okay, so, I think that we can get to Sam through Crowley. Thoughts?"  Garth says.

"Won't Gadreel just push Sam down even harder? If he's even still in there," Kevin says.

"He's in there," Cas says.  "I can feel him through Dean."

"What?" Dean says.

"You and I share a profound bond -- but your bond with Sam is stronger than anything I've ever witnessed, and I was a watcher for thousands of years.  Sam is still in there, we both know it."

"Oh.  Okay," Dean says, embarrassed.

"Loving your brother is nothing to be ashamed of Dean," Garth says.  "You just can't get all panicky."

"I'm not panicky," Dean says, shifting in his chair.

"Back to the point - we've got to be sneaky," Garth says.  "I doubt Sam has allowed himself to acknowledge his bond with Crowley. So Gadreel probably doesn't know about it either.  Hm?"

"Your conjecture has merit, Garth," Castiel says.  "Sam's bond with Crowley is in the blood, concentrated in Sam's lower chakras.  Gadreel has probably been hiding in the top two or three chakras only.  Though,  the longer he spends in control of Sam's body, he'll move lower until he is fully inhabiting Sam on every level."

"Nasty!" Kevin says, grimacing.

Dean looks blank.  "I don't want to know."

"How long?" Garth asks Castiel.

Castiel clears his throat.  "I was almost a year in this vessel before I had access to the heart.  I reached the solar plexus after about a year and a half. The lower chakras, have, eventually, opened to me," he says, blushing.

"Stop right there, Angel," Kevin says uncomfortably.  "TMI."

Dean looks around.  "I don't even know what you are saying."

"That's okay, Dean," Garth says.  "You and Cas can talk about it later. The point is, Gadreel's only been in Sam for a few months.  He's still at the higher, conscious end of Sam's vessel, and he's spent most of that time in hiding.   Whereas, Sam's connection to Crowley is in the blood -- a much stronger connection to Sam's essential power than the higher chakras."

"Yes," Castiel confirms.  "Yes, that's right.  The blood carries the essential life energies of the vessel, whereas the chakras are a framework for referring to conscious control of those energies.  So Sam's bond with Crowley is on a very basic level, permeated throughout his being, and Gadreel is most likely unable to access that basic level yet."

"Perfect," Garth says, beaming.  "Right?"

"Yes," Castiel says.  "If Crowley will agree."

"What?" Dean says.  "What!"

Kevin answers.  "It's like this.  Think of it as the typical mind/body split.  The mind belongs to the Angel, but the body is still Sam.  All Crowley has to do is get Sam's blood to say no and Gadreel is toast."

"Not quite," Castiel says.  "That's the tricky part.  The blood has a will of its own -- and Sam's is particularly strong, because he's lived his whole life infused with demonic power --  but it can't say yes or no for the vessel.  Sam needs to awaken and eject Gadreel himself."

"So Crowley's gonna do that how?" Dean demands.

"This is the part you're not going to like," Garth says, grimacing. "Crowley has a way into Sam through the blood.  He basically needs to stir up Sam's blood until he wakes up.  It might not look unlike possession."

Dean works through the double negative and explodes, jumping up and slamming his hands on the table.  "No.  No, no.  You're not letting Crowley possess Sam."

Garth just looks at Dean.  "Sam has to wake up.  Gadreel has him pushed so far down, there's no other way."

"What about me?" Dean asks.  "Why can't Cas push me into Sam through our profound three way?"

Kevin covers his face with both hands.

"Your blood bond with Sam is not that strong, Dean.  It's your bond as soul mates that resonates with ours, and Gadreel's presence in the soul paths of the vessel blocks that access."

Kevin pounds his forehead against the table.  "You guys are so messed up," Kevin mutters.

Castiel turns his righteous stare on Kevin who says nothing more.

Garth goes on, thinking it through. "Crowley can't really possess Sam.  If he tried, he'd be burned away by Gadreel's holy fire.  Besides, Sam still has the tattoo.  Crowley would just be awakening Sam through the blood."

"Much depends on Crowley," Castiel notes.

"I freaking hate that fucker," Kevin growls into the table.

"You said it," Dean seconds.

"He's our best hope at this point," Garth says.  "Now if there are no objections, we'll go and see what he wants in exchange."

Garth waits while everyone thinks it through.  "Hearing none, let's go."

Garth, Castiel, Dean and Kevin make a little procession down to the dungeon.

Crowley looks up as the task force enters his makeshift cell, a gleam in his eyes, an expectant smile on his face.

"What a sight is this!  Come begging are you?" he asks.

"We have a proposition," Garth says.  "We want you to wake Sam up through your blood bond. What do you want in return?"

"Blunt.  I like it," Crowley says.  "I suppose my freedom is out of the question."

"Of course," Garth acknowledges.

"Kevin Tran is off the table?" Crowley grins, his greedy eyes on Kevin.

"What?" Dean shouts.  "God dammit Crowley, no!"

Crowley laughs unpleasantly.  "Let young Kevin answer for himself.  No love is there greater than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend."

"I would," Kevin says, angry.  "For Sam.  Yes."

Dean looks like he's going to burst a blood vessel.

"That's very brave, very sweet of you, Kevin," Crowley says.  "Very sweet, and a very tempting offer, very tempting indeed.  But no. I've played with Kevin before, I'm sure I will again. What I want is more of Sam's blood. It, it feels good in my veins."

The air in the room stills as everyone looks at each other.  "That's acceptable," Garth says. It's exactly what they were hoping for.

"So, how are we going to do this then?" Crowley asks.

They lay out the plan and waste no time.  Garth and Castiel go back to questioning Gadreel, in hopes of distracting him, while Kevin and Dean stay to try and make sure Crowley doesn't do something unexpected.

"Gadreel," Castiel says evenly.  "Despoiler of Eden."

"Castiel," Gadreel says with disgust.  "Scourge of Heaven."

Castiel holds the other Angel's accusatory gaze.  "If you really want the whole story of how the despairing Archangels triggered these events with their lust for the Apocalypse, I'll be happy to tell you."

"Metatron told me all I need to know" Gadreel spits, then realizes what he's said.

"Metatron!  You've seen him? He's spoken with you?  I urge you, my brother, disregard his lies! He is insane!"

"He has a plan to rebuild Heaven!" Gadreel insists.

"What do you think he told me?" Castiel argues.  "He tricked me too.  Don't believe him!"

"But he -- is the voice of God.  I knew him of old," Gadreel says, hopelessly.  "How can I forsake his mission -- especially on the word of a traitor such as yourself?"

"Turn your gaze inward, Gadreel," Castiel entreats.  "Search your grace.  The Winchesters are righteous men.  Kevin Tran is a prophet of the Lord.  How can it be God's will for you to kill them?"

"I -- I -- " Gadreel stutters, then gasps.  "What? What's happening? Don't cast me out!  Please, I beg you, Sam!"

Gadreel's head flies back, stiffening as his Angelic energies surge to the surface.  Garth flings his arm in front of his eyes.

"Out!  Get out of me, Angel!" Sam shouts, and the eerie whining scream of the Angel rattles the room as the bright light sings.

"Wait!" shouts Garth.  "Gadreel, we want to help you!"

"Yes, brother!" Castiel shouts.  "Come to me-- this vessel is strong enough for both of us!"

Castiel glows with Angelic fire as the other Angel hovers near, seeking entrance.

"Let me breathe you in, Gadreel!" Castiel says, and Gadreel, somehow, submits.  Castiel breathes in the grace of the other Angel, glowing bright in the center of his upper chest before the light fades back.

"What the hell?" Sam gasps, straining against the bonds.

"Cas, you got him?" Garth asks.

"Yes," Cas says.  "Yes, we are here.  This is strange, but ... this vessel has been through many battles.  It will endure."

"Codeword, Cas!" Garth insists.

"Music makes the people come together, music,  mix the bourgeoisie and the rabble," Castiel intones.

"Awesome!" Garth says and swings around to let Sam loose. "Sam, are you all right? How do you feel?"

"Hot -- burning up," Sam gasps, " -- but -- oh, I already feel a little better. What happened?"

"Can you walk?" Garth asks.

"Yeah," Sam says, standing.  He's a little shaky, but looking better by the minute.

"We gotta check in with the others, make sure this all went according to plan."

Garth and Cas lead Sam to the dungeon, where Kevin and Dean are nervously looking on.

Dean flies to Sam, clinging to his brother in a massive hug.

"Sam, Sammy," Dean mutters into Sam's neck. "Sammy."  He can't seem to say anything else.

"Very touching," Crowley mutters.

"Thank you, Crowley," Garth says, "thank you, Gadreel."

Sam pushes Dean gently off him.  "I'm not sure what's been going on," Sam says.  "I need some explanations. I had an Angel in me.  And I think that Crowley just did something but I'm not sure what."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Sam," Garth says.  "Please take that into account while we explain."

"Some one get me Sam's blood," Crowley grins.  "It's delicious."

Pandemonium ensues, but faith, hope and love prevail.

The free will alliance gets stronger that day, a day that will take its place in the most hallowed chapters of the Winchester Gospels. 


End file.
